


Good With A Blade

by NonbinaryHylian (chicagoartnerd)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Alternate Universe - Priests, Class Issues, Drinking & Talking, F/F, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Religious Discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicagoartnerd/pseuds/NonbinaryHylian
Summary: Windblade is one of the only priestesses in service of all of Lower Kaon.Chromia is a Pit gladiator who she can't stop thinking about.Good thing the attraction is mutual.
Relationships: Chromia/Windblade
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25
Collections: Secret Solenoid '19-'20





	Good With A Blade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhythmickorbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhythmickorbit/gifts).



Solus was the goddess of creativity and creation, Primus the god of fertility and life, and Mortilus was the god of death. 

There were fifteen other gods in the Cybertronian pantheon, but Windblade rarely did their rights. She was technically a Speaker of Solus, the only priestess in The Forge in Kaon. Years ago she had dreamed of serving as a head priestess in Iacon at Solus’s Master Forge, but her ambitions were dashed and she had been essentially banished to the Forge in Kaon. 

The labor and disposable castes made up most of her parishioners and she quickly found out she liked them infinitely better than any of the upper class bots of Iacon. Her only real complaint was she was chronically understaffed, as it was just her and Lightbright, and the other priestess served Onyx instead of Solus. The two of them were the only priestesses serving a population of thousands. Just the two of them administering adulthood rites and lucky blessings, presiding at conjunxings and funerals, generally offering a sympathetic ear and sometimes a meal to the many destitute of Kaon. Together they both split the small and humble Forge temple just outside the Pits of Kaon. 

Living that close made the gladiators and their fights impossible to miss.

Windblade had never attended a match officially but she often made trips to the rings to bless the more religious fighters before their fights. And of course to perform final rites for dead and dying gladiators. Which happened more often than she would have liked. Windblade actually met Chromia for the first time while giving the final rights for a fallen gladiator.

Chromia had been covered in his neon pink innermost energon, her blue hands pressed to a mortal wound around and through the dying bot’s spark chamber. The medic on call was standing back and away in the corner trying not to watch with morbid curiosity as Windblade approached solemnly and began to ease him into the arms of Mortilus. Chromia had looked up at her with fierce optics and berated her. “Tell me, what kind of Gods continue to let us die pointlessly here, simply for the amusement of the rich? Your pretty words are empty and worthless priestess.”

Windblade ex-vented heavily, she was used to this type of question, but that didn’t mean it was easy to answer. Before she could the dying bot, Obsidian, stopped her. “It helps, it may all be a beautiful lie but the words she speaks now are comfortingly familiar. It feels like I’m finally going home Chromia.”

Chromia’s burning blue optics looked down into his flickering red ones bitterly. “You could have gone back you know, not just spoken of it all the time, you silly old fool. Dying isn’t the same as finally returning to your family offworld Obie.”

He let out a shuddering vent that might have been a laugh, though it was worryingly wet. “Chromia...my family was most likely purged when they closed the mines at Carcer. Dying might be the only way I can truly rejoin them. If the Afterspark is real, then know that I am finally with them and at peace.”

Chromia made a choked off sob at that and bit her lip as his optics dimmed and his frame started to go gray from total spark failure. Windblade didn’t want to disturb her even though she needed to prepare his frame for cremation in the Light of Primus. Instead they sat together in the energon stained Pit medbay in total silence for a long time. 

Finally Windblade stood and murmured a prayer for safe passage to The Well and anointed his forehead with sterile sweet smelling oils. Chromia didn’t try to stop her or yell at her again until she had finished with Obsidian’s body and had started to pack up her oils and waxs. Her blue optics were bright with rage when she looked at Windblade. “Do you honestly think you’re doing the right thing? Do you enjoy giving people false hope that there’s some better life out there waiting for them after they finally die? That all this misery has earned them some sort of cosmic reward instead of their whole lives being pointless and cruel?”

Windlade frowned and addressed her seriously. “You’re right, the misery and cruelty that’s inflicted on Kannonites is deeply wrong. No one should be decommissioned or left to starve simply for the way Primus made them. The Gods know this, it’s...some of their ‘followers’ who twist their words and use them to inflict all this suffering. I am...ah-I have tried to take this stance publicly more than once within the temple’s hierarchy. But, well, there’s a reason why I now serve here instead of in the glittering gold halls of Iacon.”

Something flickered across the light blue gladiator’s face plate, it might have been uncertainty as she addressed her. This time much less aggressively. “I’m not sure what I was expecting when Obsidian requested a priestess after his last match, but it certainly wasn’t you. I’m Chromia.” 

She gave her forearm over to her and Windblade grabbed it in respectful greeting. “I’m Windblade, a Speaker of Solus. It is a pleasure to meet you, though I wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

Chromia snorted and her smile was wry, even though her EM field was still tinged with anger and sadness. “Priestesses only ever get summoned here for blessings and last rites. I’m not the kind of bot who would ask for a ‘lucky prayer’ to Adaptus, so this is really the only time we could have met. Unless you make a regular habit of attending the matches?”

She was looking at her with open interest now and Windblade had to fight not to blush a bit. She unnecessarily cleared her intake a little before responding. “No. No, I’ve never been to one of the fights and I don’t intend to ever do so, to be quite honest.”

Chromia shrugged and gestured for her to follow her as she spoke. “I don’t own much as a gladiator. The most I can offer you is a reserved seat at any of my fights or a shot of high grade in one of the oil houses around here. I do want to thank you somehow though, for what you did for Obsidian. He was...he was a friend.”

Windblade nodded thoughtfully. Folks often tried to repay her for her services in some manner, she declined when it was polite to do so, because she worked for free in the service of others. As was the way of those who followed the strict rules of the Forge Temple. She knew for a fact not all priestesses and priests kept that particular tennant of their religion though. Some lived as opulantly as the Senators themselves did. It was disgusting. She wasn’t about to take fuel from the mouths of the poor in order to better pad her berth.

In this case though it would have been rude to refuse the offer outright so she demurred. “I must return to the Forge now. Maybe I can trouble you for a drink another time, and no need to save me a seat, although I appreciate the gesture. You could, of course, always come visit me at the temple if you like. All are welcome.”

She said the last part hurriedly. She wasn’t sure why but she didn’t want this meeting to be their one and only. Chromia laughed again and this time it was clear and genuine. “Oh I bet I’d feel about as welcome there as you would in the stands watching me fight. No, I probably won’t visit you at the Temple. Here’s my comm code though. Message me when you’re ready for that drink.”

With that she showed her out the back entrance to the lower Pits and waved goodbye while winking with one optic. Windblade did blush and stammer goodbye at that and Chromia definitely noticed if her smirk was any indication as she turned to leave. 

After that first meeting Windblade couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

Which was unfortunate, as she had a massive amount of work to do and not enough time to do it in. But instead of chipping away at her neverending backlog of requests for rites and aid, Windblade found herself wondering what Chromia was doing. How she was she fairing? 

Each time she was summoned to the Pits for last rites her spark pulsed with dread at the possibility of being Chromia. Though she suspected that Chromia wouldn’t ever ask for her even if she was dying, either out of stubbornness or mercy she wasn’t sure which. 

Eventually the uncertainty got to be too much for her to bear and she looked up her public comm frequency. She waited for several more cycles after finding it and then finally comm’d her to ask if she was doing well, if she wanted to get that drink? 

Chromia responded almost immediately, and while she was relieved she was also terribly nervous. It wasn’t... _ forbidden _ for priestesses to date and take amicas or conjunxes, but Windblade had never had the inclination to do such things before now. It just wasn’t something she’d had the time and energy to consider before. She felt like she might have a reason too now and it was making her panic slightly. This was just a friendly drink right? A thank you for her service for one of Chromia’s now departed friends’. It didn’t have to be a date...

It was definitely a date.

Chromia was already sitting at the bar when Windblade entered  _ The Champion’s Hall _ and she was polished to a high shine. There was a new weld scar across her shoulder and part of her chest, stopping just before reaching her spark, and Windblade couldn’t stop herself from reaching out lightly to touch it in concern. Chromia’s field flared around her own with a massive tangle of emotions she couldn’t read before it retracted back under her plating. 

Windblade quickly withdrew her hand and was about to apologize, her own field spiking with worry and anxiety, when Chromia took it instead. She laced their fingers together and pulled Windblade up to sit next to her at the bar as she smiled slyly at her. “I’m fine. I’ve gotten nastier cuts while calibrating my energy axe. That concerned look is cute on you though.”

Windblade blinked for a moment before she recovered and sputtered. “Ah! That’s-well I’m glad you’re alright at any rate. After we met that first time I kept thinking each call to the Pits for my services on behalf of the dying was going to be for you. It was a very unpleasant feeling.” She paused as she felt Chromia’s rougher hand squeeze her smoother one, hard. 

She looked up and at her and her spark skipped in her chest. Chromia’s blue optics were surprisingly tender as she brought Windblade’s hand to her lips and kissed the knuckles. “I’m flattered you cared enough to think of me at all. Even if it was to worry about my eventual demise.”

Windblade’s spark clenched and she opened her mouth to protest, then Chromia dropped her hand and sighed as she waved down the minibot bartender for a drink. “Don’t. I’m a gladiator and I will likely be one until I die. It is what it is. Just like you’re a Speaker of Solus. We are what we are. I doubt either of us will change anytime soon so let's focus on right now instead. For instance, what’ll you be having? They don’t have much in the way of fancy engenx but their mid-grade and high-grade shots are decent.”

Windblade found herself missing her holding her hand so she boldly reached out and grabbed it again. Chromia raised both her brow ridges at that and her field flared with amusement but she didn’t take her hand back. In fact she squeezed hers gently in return. Windblade bit her lip. She didn’t drink all that often and wasn’t sure what to order. 

She shrugged and tried to pull in her excited, flittering field. “I’ll admit I don’t drink often so perhaps something mild? Either that or whatever you’re having so we can both be equally overcharged.”

Chromia laughed and her smile was wide and mischievous as she ordered them a pitcher of something called Megazarak’s Bane. The rest of the evening was a blur of bright flashing colors and laughter, their warm fields meshing and playing coyly with one another. Windblade had never done anything like this before but she found herself wanting to do it again...with Chromia. 

The high grade was surprisingly sweet and went down too easily. To her consternation Chromia seemed to be holding her charge better, but when they made it to the bottom of the pitcher they were both leaning against each other on the bar, heads pressed close and field’s positively glowing with contentment. She knew she should return to her berth in the Temple...alone. That didn’t stop her from  _ wanting _ to bring Chromia back to her berth though. 

Windblade knew it would be a bad idea, they were both still over-charged, so she tried to tell her goodbye. Chromia insisted on walking her home, for safety’s sake, which was laughable as they both stumbled arm and arm through the nighttime streets of Lower Kaon. 

But as they approached the small carved stone facade of the Forge Temple they both seemed to sober up somewhat. Windblade stopped on the steps leading up the archway entrance and looked down at her, she was suddenly a head taller than Chromia. She wasn’t sure what to say. 

She’d had such a wonderful night! Chromia was a good story teller and they had both exchanged all sorts of fun and interesting tales. She had devolved into a giggling mess as she told her the story of how she had accidentally stolen the Mistress of Flame’s favorite hat her first week in the Forge in Iacon. Chromia told her of her battles but also how she had gotten her aft handed to her the first time she had tried to spar with Strika. She definitely wanted to meet up with her like this again. 

Chromia saved her from having to speak as she leaned up and placed her thumb lightly against Windblade’s lips. “Would be alright to kiss you? See I’m a nonbeliever so I don’t know whether it would be a sin or not to mess up that pretty red Speaker lacquer. So? Can I?”

Windblade swallowed hard as Chromia leaned up closer towards her face, her thumb sliding down with her hand to cup her chin. “No.” Chromia froze for a second and then started to withdraw her hand when Windblade hastily covered it with her own. “I mean uh, it wouldn’t be sinful to smudge my makeup. In fact, it’s certainly allowed in circumstances such as this. So yes. Yes,  _ please _ . Do.”

Chromia relaxed and chuckled low as she slid her hand out from under Windblade’s to cup the back of her neck and bring their two mouths together. It was just a brush at first, but when she made a frustrated noise and pushed forward a bit Chromia deepened it and Windblade found herself gripping her chest and leaning down against her so she didn’t fall right over. She’d never kissed anyone like this and it felt incredible. Her field throbbed with happiness and satisfaction as she wound her arms around Chromia’s neck. 

She was slightly taller and broader than Windblade and the feel of her powerfully armored plating and her engine humming under her hands made her spark stutter. Chromia’s hand on the back of her neck pushed and moved to play lightly with the ailerons of her wings. She gasped at that and Chromia grinned against her lips. Her other hand found its way to Windblade’s hip where it started to rub soothing circles against her plating. Windblade didn’t even attempt to hide how much she enjoyed that as she moaned and Chromia’s glossa darted into her mouth. 

Windblade’s field flared with desire as she tried to chase her glossa with her own. It took her a moment to remember where they were, she was so lost in the other bot in the best way. When she did eventually break the kiss both of their cooling fans were running loudly in the mostly silent air in front of the Forge. Chromia’s optics were a half-lidded smoldering blue and met Windblade’s wide optic’d stare hotly. She licked her lips and Windblade watched the motion avidly. Chromia reached up and smoothed her thumb across her mouth again. “That wax lacquer tastes different, you know? I wasn’t expecting that. Look: I know I said I wouldn’t visit you here before, and while I still don’t particularly believe in the Guiding Hand, by Primus if you invite me inside I’ll say ‘yes’ in a sparkbeat.”

She felt Chromia’s longing like a physical caress in her field and shivered. Windblade wanted to invite her in, she did, she also knew she couldn’t. Not tonight. Not when they had both had consumed way too much highgrade. Not when Windblade had never really interfaced with anyone before. This was all happening very fast and not nearly fast enough. 

She sighed. “I want to, believe me, but not tonight. When we both sober up and meet again then yes, you are more than welcome to come inside with me. Actually you’re welcome to invite yourself here to the Forge anytime Chromia. Truly, I mean it.”

Chromia sagged a little but there wasn’t any anger in her field just a little disappointment. Mostly it was still vibrant and pulsing with happiness, curling and bumping up against Windblade’s own excitedly. “The same goes for my quarters in the Pit then. Visit me whenever you like. You’re always welcome anywhere I am Windblade. Goodnight.” With that she bowed deeply and formally before her and then got up to leave. 

More steady on her own feet now as she was halfway down the street she turned and blew her a kiss with shouting. “I hope you have some good dreams tonight Speaker, I know I’m gonna.”

Windblade laughed and felt her cheek plating heat up with an energon pink blush. Chromia could probably see it from down the street it was so bright. She didn’t care though. Her spark felt like it was going to soar out of her chest. 

Windblade had never been in love before but she had read enough plays, poetry, and prose about it to know that was what this was. Oh did she have it bad. And it was only going to get worse, she could tell, but that didn’t worry her as much as it should of. Even though they led very different existences, Chromia made her feel as if everything would work out. That as long as they faced the future together, nothing could stop them. It was probably naive but now that she knew her better, she was less worried about her dying in a fight. The feeling of her powerful motor under her hands earlier had comforted her in that, and excited her. 

It seemed Chromia was _very_ good with blades...of all sorts. Windblade bit her lip at that thought as she laid down in her thin and spartan berth. She definitely had trouble recharging, though when she did, her dreams were all kinds of tingling and pleasant. Chromia featured heavily in them of course. She hoped she would continue to feature in more than just her overcharged dreams. Windblade smiled to herself at that thought as she drifted off. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh I hope you like it! This was fun to write as I love love love world building!
> 
> Also this cuteness is my 69th fic on the archive whoops! Sorry I haven't posted anything since October, I've been doing a ton of Real Life Shit. I'm gonna be posting a lot more soon though, especially this next week for MegOP week woo! Little shout out to Auri-nymonys with the reference to The Champion's Hall. <3
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter for more Transformers content and fic snippets etc @BasilBing! <3


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